


Black Winds

by LORBEERPRINZ



Series: Zine Fics [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Soen no Kiseki/Akatsuki no Megami | Fire Emblem Path of Radiance/Radiant Dawn
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Heroes to Villains
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:35:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22865668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LORBEERPRINZ/pseuds/LORBEERPRINZ
Summary: [written for FE Compendium's Challenge 100 zine]The Crimean army was so close to facing the Mad King himself and reclaim the country. But before that could happen, Ike was challenged by Daein's best strategist and Ashnard's personal trump card, a commander of both the troops and deadly, ice-cold winds.
Series: Zine Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1643614
Kudos: 10





	Black Winds

**Author's Note:**

> As stated, this fic was written for the upcoming Challenge 100 zine over at Fire Emblem Compendium. The challenge I chose to represent was "Hero-Villain-Swap", but obviously, due to the nature of such scenarios, you could also say it's an AU. Needless to say, SPOILERS for certain characters ahead! This is also a longer version of what will be in the zine, as I had to edit it down to fit the page limit, so consider this one here the complete "director's cut". Because it got longer than I had expected, it might also recieve a second chapter at some point.

They had almost made it. The battle for Fort Pinell was going quite smoothly so far, but Ike had to admit he wasn’t very surprised. Considering all the challenges his comrades had managed to overcome in the past months as they had somehow slid into the liberation of Crimea, it almost felt natural that they would make their way closer and closer to the occupied Melior and its castle almost daily.  
Not much stood between the Crimean army and Ashnard himself anymore.

Ike swiped some splattered blood from his face, took a look around the battlefield as the chaos of the fight roared on in the background. Death all around.  
Thus, moments where he was able to take a breath and collect his thoughts were rare. He was in command of this entire endeavour, whether he wanted to or not, and had only gotten so far thanks to the combined efforts of his friends who helped him out with anything from recruiting to finances and battle strategies. He was glad Ranulf had begun to take over this job, he himself would be lost in the jungle of details and possibilities that had to be taken into account to make sure an army’s moves were coordinated and losses as small as possible. Ike, meanwhile, did what he could do best to help: fight.

But his quiet moment wouldn’t last long.  
The near-deafening roar of what Ike could only assume was a huge wyvern mauled his ears as the creature’s shadow sped along the ground below, the mercenary could feel the flaps of its great wings above him.  
Instead of landing, however, the dragon flew on while a figure emerged from its back mid-air, softening the fall right before touching the ground with what seemed to be wind magic.  
In front of Ike, a young man presented himself.

Clad in black armor that almost looked too heavy for the thin limbs the blue-haired was able to spot under the battle garb, this person stood proudly as he glared at Ike with piercingly red eyes. His hair seemed long as strands of it framed his surprisingly soft face and it was decorated with a kind of golden circlet which from afar almost looked like a thorny crown. Its middle part held no gemstone or anything similar, however, just left space to present part of the man’s forehead. From the distance, Ike could hardly see what it was meant to emphasize.  
A cape almost as equally dark as his armor was held on this person by a clasp adorned with what Ike could identify as the Daein coat of arms.

He had heard of this guy.  
This man, who almost looked more like a young boy to him, was infamous, almost feared among Tellius as a nigh-impossible to beat strategist and Daein’s trump card. His plans were what made the Crimean army’s battles increasingly more difficult, his intricate strategies were felt with every step that Ike and his comrades took. It seemed he had taken personal command of the battle today, soaring through the skies above the battlefield on a wyvern as black as his armor. With perfect overview, he was able to give precise commands to his troops or destroy whoever he wished with powerful magic.  
And he was King Ashnard’s son.

Ike couldn’t decide whether the situation for the Daein army was dire or great if the prince himself came to deal with him personally.  
At least he didn’t just sit back and let his soldiers do the dirty work.  
But there was a small detail about this person that Ike found rather curious.

“I have to say, I didn’t expect a child to lead this army.”

“Hmpf!”  
Red eyes glared at Ike even fiercer than before, whatever slight amusement the prince had had for his opponent before was gone in an instant. The air around him froze.  
“I didn’t come here expecting any respect to begin with, but this is pathetic. Is insulting someone’s stature all you can do, commander?”

Ike grasped his sword, reading his stance. There was no way this would not end in a fight, he was sure, his opponent was armed to the teeth.   
He proudly carried a heavy tome which, with its golden adornments, appeared to be magic of the highest order. A slim sword hung to the boy’s side while on his other hip, Ike was able to spot a dagger. The prince’s armor, while practical for battle, was topped off with several spikes here and there to pierce all those stupid enough to think they could just throw themselves at the smaller man.

“I’m afraid I’m more adept at the sword than words.”

As the prince opened his tome, the air around him began to move and the slight aura that seemed innate to magic users once they readied themselves to cast their spells grew. His smile returned, confident and cold.  
“Well, let’s see how true that is...”

Before Ike could even react, a heavy blow swept him off his feet, so violent it knocked the air out of his lungs. The mercenary found himself in the mud of the battlefield struggling for a moment to regain his posture as his body seemed to be confused about whether to inhale or cough.  
He had seen wind magic, but this was incredible. This guy was no joke.

The Daein prince followed his attack up with a shorter spell that flung gales of cutting winds at Ike, surrounding him with dangerous gusts as his wyvern steed had returned to scream above him.  
Ike preferred this kind of magic. It was sharp, hundreds of needles digging into his flesh, ripping apart his unarmored clothes and skin, flinging dirt and stones in his face, but it had an advantage. Those gales came in short bursts, were meant to wear the opponent down rather than putting all force into one deadly blow. With enough tenacity, it was possible to withstand these winds and advance.  
And this was exactly what he was going to do.

Sword firmly in his grip, Ike charged through the flurry of winds towards his attacker, who until now had calmly cast his spells and watched as the injuries on Ike’s body grew. But now that the mercenary was coming for him, he, too, prepared himself for an immediate attack, changed his spell of choice to a more direct and fierce blow again.  
Ike was ready for it. He avoided it just barely, finally closed the gap between him and the other man, swung his sword at the mage’s dark armor. His opponent made a surprisingly swift retreat despite his heavy battle garp, maybe his magic assisted him in moving around so quickly in it. He threw another wind spell at him, which did not miss its target this time, but Ike anticipated the impact. With all his force and weight put into his stand, it still felt as though an entire boulder had been thrown at his chest, but he couldn’t give up now.  
If he managed to defeat Ashnard’s son right here and now, Daein’s army would lose one of its most important figureheads. He couldn’t let this chance go to waste.

Once again he charged for the prince and while he couldn’t reach him this time either, he accomplished something else – the tome he carried was caught between Ike’s blade and the boy’s body, being cut in half by the sharp weapon.  
Loose pages fluttered through the air, blown around by the residual wind magic around them. Daein’s master strategist watched his spells dance around him with surprising calmness, backed off once more. Ike wasn’t sure whether he was able to use the spells on the pages even when they weren’t compiled in a complete book and as such once again prepared himself for the worst.   
But the the mage just glared at him, red eyes fiery yet cold. The air around him seemed frozen.

“Not bad, commander.”

He couldn’t let him come up with a new plan.  
Ike darted forward, seeing his chance to put it to an end now. Quickly, the prince drew his sword, let his blade collide with Ike’s in a loud clatter. The boy struggled to keep his balance against Ike in a direct sword fight, backed off again to prepare a swing towards the mercenary. As the two men traded blows, it became obvious that this weapon was only a secondary means of defense for the prince, his swordplay, while showing signs of professional training, was even less coordinated than Ike’s own and the thin blade was clearly meant to emphasize fast, precise stabs to accomodate for the boy’s scrawny arms.   
The mercenary made quick work of it, knocked the sword out of his opponent’s hands with one great strike.

Not giving the enemy any time to breathe, Ike immediately followed this up with another attack, which the prince managed to quickly dive under. His sword only barely missed the boy, almost got tangled up in the dark cape as he ducked away easily.  
A dagger flew. A few inches further to one side and it would have ended up in Ike’s forehead, but it luckily disappeared into the distance. Daein’s prince made the muddy ground his advantage, slid along the dirt to quickly put some distance between himself and Ike again, kicking him in the back along the way. Ike tumbled, lost his balance from the sudden blow, the boy’s kick had a surprising amount of force behind it. From the corner of one eye, he saw how the prince shook some dirt off his boots.  
“Don’t underestimate someone’s height ever again”, he growled.

He left Ike no time to retaliate. The blue-haired had only barely opened his mouth when he felt another heavy blow against his entire body, was pushed backwards so suddenly he landed on his back gasping for air.  
Looking up after a second of collecting himself, Ike could recognize the same magic aura that had enwrapped the prince before already, marking his preparation to cast another spell.  
But this was impossible. His tome was in shreds, fluttering through the air around him or being soaked with mud and dirt. Did he have another hidden one somewhere? Usually, Ike thought, tomes would be too big and heavy to hide one under your clothes. Was this why the boy’s armor seemed so big?

“How… did you…?”

A grin appeared on the mage’s face. Instead of flinging another attack at Ike, however, he let his magic dance around him as he approached the mercenary, slowly but steadily while he showed off his prowess of the arcane arts.  
“You wouldn’t understand even if I explained it to you. You poor little soul have no idea how far my powers can go, how much more I am than the magic users you know.”  
He chuckled. As he approached Ike, he was for the first time slow enough – deliberately so – that the mercenary could have a good look at his face, saw now that the boy’s golden ornament around his head showed off something that appeared to be engraved into his forehead skin. No, it wasn’t engraved, no paint, no tattoo, nothing of the sort.  
Ike had seen something like that. Ranulf, Lethe, it was so similar to the markings his friends wore on their bodies.

“You… you’re a Laguz?!”

The prince’s grin grew.  
“Ha, you’re so naive, commander. I’m not one of those creatures, of course. I’m neither Laguz nor Beorc – I’m _better_. A special being you would never be able to comprehend. Now prepare for your demise at my hands in the name of Daein!”

The prince rose an arm, winds began gathering around him which Ike knew would soon form another flurry of storms meant to cut him apart into tiny pieces. Not letting the enemy out of his sight, Ike felt around for his sword which had been knocked out of his hand during the last blow while another huge roar tore the sky above them apart.  
But this roar seemed different from that of a wyvern. Ike’s opponent stopped, looked around and found a giant beast of a dragon approach him, unusually pink scales glowing in the daylight. As the dragon was about to land its form began to change until a young woman stood next to the prince, hair as pink as her scales had been.

“Sor– Your Highness! The enemy troops broke through the eastern and western flanks! We’re caught in a pincer, the Crimeans are moving forward!”

“What?! Impossible!”  
Immediately, Daein’s strategist turned to retrieve the sword he had lost, whistled for his dragon steed. He was quickly answered by a roar and the black beast appearing close to him, but he gave Ike no opportunity to launch a surprise attack.  
Once again, the prince glared at him for a moment that seemed much longer than it actually was, red eyes piercing into his very soul. 

“You’re lucky your people are competent, commander. But I’m sure my father will enjoy taking care of you personally.”

Without any further word, the boy mounted his wyvern and was immediately off, followed by the unknown Laguz girl. He gave Ike one last icy stare of contempt and loathing before he dove into the chaos of the battlefield.  
The mercenary looked after him one last time as he tried to rally up his soldiers and give swift commands to change their strategy, but Ike was sure it wouldn’t help anymore now. Everything had gone according to Ranulf’s plan, their victory was already decided.

He knew he would see Ashnard’s son again at some point, despite the boy’s words they would definitely clash once more. 

This war wasn’t over.


End file.
